


The Road Goes Ever On

by ManiacalBeauty



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Agony, Farewells, Feels, Flashbacks, Framwise, Frodo and Sam - Freeform, Frowise, M/M, Multi, Sad, Tears, Valinor, Waiting, depressed, the ring - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 21:04:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4114884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ManiacalBeauty/pseuds/ManiacalBeauty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The quest to destroy the Ring is over, the rights and refurbishment of the Shire have been regained, and Frodo is miserable. Not only is he still affected by the fiery brand of the Ring, he now comes to the realization that he has had a deeper feeling for Sam ever since he was hired as his gardener during the happy days. What makes matters worse is that Sam has proposed to Rosie, and there wedding is dawning ever nearer. Frodo is left in silent agony as he watches the development of his surrounding friends and Sam, living happily and finding love. He can't wait to find his release in Valinor.<br/>Does Sam secretly feel the same? Will it be too late if so? This tale follows the tortured hearts of many, an emerald river of memories, and the petals of an Elanora flower.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Weary Path

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my first fandom works that I have edited with a friend a while back and am quite proud about. I have a deep connection with the LOTR fandom and the Frodo and Samwise ship. Thank you for taking a look at this, whoever you are.

Frodo sighed as he looked around in the dimly lit bar, Merry and Pippin clinking glasses and laughing merrily with the bartender. He looked sadly at the golden bands on Merry and Pippin's fingers. They had married last fall, and Sam had just proposed to Rosie a couple months ago. Today was the rehearsal dinner. There was going to be another practice tomorrow, bachelor and bachelorette parties (plenty of smoking involved), then the wedding. It was too late. He should have taken Bilbo's advice....  
"My dear Frodo" Bilbo approached him kindly, as he helped the younger hobbit fasten his cloak. "Uncle?" He replied, straightening the pin. "I could never be more proud of you," Bilbo says, giving Frodo a fleeting grin. "But there is one thing I want you to do for yourself, something that would make you happy." Frodo looked at him with a puzzled expression. "What uncle? What is it?" "I suppose you already know deep inside," Bilbo replied,"but since you have failed to recognize already, after all you have been through, you are more daft than I thought, so let me give you some advice." Bilbo cleared his throat, and brushed off the end of his empty pipe. "You, Frodo, must tell Sam how you feel towards him.." Frodo looked at him for a moment then started to laugh as merrily as he could, but it came out strangled and awkward. "Uncle, I'm afraid I don't know what you-"  
"Oh hush boy, you know perfectly well what I mean." Bilbo chuckled, smoothing out the shoulders of Frodo's clothes with a certain finality, and clapping a hand on his back, making Frodo yelp in surprise. "Go tell him Frodo, and tell him soon. He's the only one to make you happy, and I want to see you happy, Frodo." Bilbo said, a hint of tears in his eyes. Before Frodo could say another word, Bilbo ushered him out the door of Rivendell, the guard elves looking at the two with kind graceful smiles."And Frodo," the older hobbit called as Frodo walked blindly down the steps. He turned around. "I expect to be invited to the wedding." He winked, sharing a mirthful glance at the guards who laughed with him quietly. All sharing a silent understanding. 

"Frodo!" Pippin called out, slightly tipsy. "Come celebrate!" Frodo twitched, realizing he had been staring morosely at his beer for the past five minutes. Pippin didn't seem to notice, "Rosie and Sam will be here soon." Frodo groaned and stood up from his stool. "I'm sorry Pippin, but I don't feel well. I think I'll head back home." Pippin frowned slightly, but that turned into a grin as soon as Merry appeared, swinging an arm around Pippin and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Frodo wanted to cry. Pippin turned towards him once more. "Are you sure you're okay, Frodo?" He said softly, trying to catch his eyes. Frodo smiled wanly. "Yes Pippin, I'm fine. Really!" He laughed shakily, as he looked at the doubt in their eyes. "I'm so happy for you both, honestly." He gave them each a pat on the shoulder. They both looked at him for a moment and then slowly smiled, glancing at each other's eyes. 

Frodo kept a cheerful visage till he was out of their sight, making his way to the door through the party-goers and out into the cool night air, breathing out a sigh of relief. He stood there for a minute as the wind blew his curls out of his face, holding back tears. He started to walk down the path, gazing at the green grass and beautiful flowers lit up by the moon through the trees. Sam can produce better ones in his gardens. Frodo thought, smiling to himself, which quickly turned into a grimace as he finally started to cry. 

It was too much. He was haunted every waking second not only from the Ring, and the awful nightmares of orcs and Gollum, and the Nazgul, leaving him with his scar burning, but he was now haunted by the fact that he could never be with Sam. He should have sucked it up, taken Bilbo's advice, and told him. But he was too late, and Sam never had feelings of that nature for him, only as his dearest friend. It also killed him that he would have to stay and watch the wedding, watch them have children. He was invited to be the best man of course, and he didn't think he had the strength to follow through with it. He smiled to himself through his sobs. Funny how he had the strength to endure the quest to destroy the Ring, but couldn't do a simple thing like invoking his feelings towards Sam. From the moment Sam rescued him from that tower, braving Orcs for him, he knew he loved him. And when he carried him up Mount Doom, that did nothing but make the feeling complete, sealing it in his scarred chest. 

He sniffled as he kicked at stones in the dirt road, reaching a bridge over a gurgling green stream. He sat at the edge, letting his legs dangle, his tears mixing with the churning water.  
As he continued to think about all the memories he's had, laughing at the good times, and grimacing at the oh so many painful ones, he was shaken out of his thoughts by the sound of two hobbits laughing merrily over some inside joke. He wiped his face and quickly stood up. 

It was Sam and Rosie. He shuddered, trying to find somewhere to hide in his panic. They couldn't see him like this. Sam and Rosie came stumbling upon the road, Sam kissing her forehead as they giggled. "Rosie, you-" he stopped, looking around and squinting in the dark. "Sam, what is it?" Rosie asked, a hint of concern in her voice as she recovered from their laughing fit. Sam didn't reply. "Frodo?" Sam called, walking over to the small tree Frodo was about to duck behind, near the bridge. 

Frodo stopped cold, and sighed. Why? Why, why, why, why? He turned around and produced his best smile, trying to look surprised. "Sam?" He echoed back. Sam smiled briefly, a hint of concern still behind his eyes. He put an arm around Rosie, shielding her from the slight chill in the air. "Frodo, what are you doing? Why aren't you at the pub?" Frodo mentally shook himself, remembering when Pippin said that Rosie and Sam would be on their way to join their proposal celebrations. "I d-don't feel very... Well." Frodo finished, trying to calm down his wobbly voice.  
Sam looked fully concerned now, understanding. "Frodo..."  
"Oh I'm fine, really. Just tired, I don't know..." He glanced at the water, as if silently asking it for help. He looked back at them, trying to grin. His chest felt like it was locked in a vice. He had to leave. "You two have fun, I'll see you tomorrow." He said shortly, trying to walk past them. 

Sam held out a hand and grabbed his shoulder. "I'll walk you back, Frodo." Rosie backed him up, giving Frodo a kind smile. "Yes, Sam will walk you home. He can come back and join us later."  
"No, it's fine, really-" Frodo started, panicking. "Nonsense, I'm coming with you." Sam said, cutting him off. He turned and gave Rosie a kiss, making her giggle. "I will see you later." He smiled. Rosie nodded and turned to give Frodo a hug, pecking his cheek. Frodo smiled, his chest getting tighter and tighter. He was going to break. 

They watched Rosie pace across the slabs of the bridge, before Sam turned towards him. Looking him square in the eyes. Frodo looked dreamily at his soft green pupils before shaking his head. "What is it, Frodo?" Sam said quietly. "Oh, the usual." Frodo whispered, toeing at the road. A single tear streaked down his face. Sam sighed in complete understanding, putting a hand on his shoulder. "It's getting worse?" Sam questioned. He knew about the nightmares, he knew about everything, except for one thing... Frodo used this as his cover as silent sobs racked his body.  
"Frodo?!" Sam yelped, yanking up his chin to see his face. This made Frodo cry harder. He didn't even realize he was sinking towards the ground until he felt Sam's strong arms lifting him up and pulling him into his chest. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Frodo," Sam started, patting his back. 

Frodo clung onto Sam's green cloak, shaking. "Hey, hey" Sam said, panic edging his voice. "Frodo? Please don't cry."  
"I'm sorry Sam, I'm so sorry. Something good happens to you, and I waste your time and worry you. You should be with Rosie. You should-" Sam stopped him. "Frodo, hush." Frodo looked at him in surprise before nodding, his throat feeling thick.  
"Let's get you home." Sam said grimly, putting an arm around him and starting to head down the road, Frodo sniffling the whole way. He stayed silent as Sam started to talk about gardening to him. This always seemed to calm him, Sam knew this. 

They finally made it to Bilbo's hobbit hole. Sam opened the door, set Frodo inside, and made him some tea. He placed it down next to Frodo, giving him a smile. "I'll be at the pub if you need me Mr. Frodo. Please try to sleep. Wedding rehearsal tomorrow," he winked. Frodo felt like he was being stabbed. "Yes, Sam." He smiled, Sam grinned, but stopped at the doorway. "Are you sure you'll be alright? I know what's going on, and I'm so sorry Frodo, anything I can do... Just call. You have no idea what's going on. Frodo thought as he gave a small smile. "Thank you Sam. I will be fine, I promise." Sam nodded slowly, and headed out the door. "And Sam?"  
"Yes Frodo?" Sam replied. "I'm happy for you."  
Sam's face split into a smile, before he cleared his throat, nodded again,  
And headed out the door, closing it softly behind him.  
Frodo watched him jog down the path, letting him go, not for the last time.


	2. The Road Begins

The second day of rehearsals wasn't any better. Frodo could hardly sleep a wink after what happened the other night. Merry and Pippin came by and woke him early in the morning, trying to shove a huge breakfast down his throat first, and then bustling him out the door, chattering away about the bachelor party. It was to be hosted at the old Gaffer's house, plenty of smoking and ale would be involved. This did nothing to help his nauseous stomach. They showed up at the river bank by the pub where the wedding would take place. The ceremony on the bridge and the reception underneath the great big tree that once beheld the festivities of Bilbo's 111th birthday party long ago at his hobbit hole. Frodo was squeamish about all the women hobbits flitting about his home and making it presentable for the wedding... Sam's wedding. Rosie and Sam looked as giddy as ever, and Sam welcomed Frodo immediately, giving him a clap on the back. The Ringbearer watched Rosie, who was quite beautiful he had to admit, with happiness as she walked down the bridge towards Sam. Hobbit children teetered behind her, pretending to throw the petals of what would be an Elanora flower. After what seemed several hours, two gaudy, burly ponies came braying madly by the river bed, pulling carriages. One for the men and one for the women. Pippin and Merry sported the first carriage, and several of Rosie's friends were on the second. Merry and Pippin beckoned to Frodo and Sam, sporting flagons of ale in the back of the wicker coach. Their gold tipped pipes held triumphantly in the air. Frodo groaned inwardly as he was hoisted into the arms of the two merry boys and whisked off to the Gaffers. The whole ride consisted of pretending to smile, and trying to avoid Sam's happy gaze as they bounced along. Visions of the quest haunted him, and he wanted to feel happy for Sam, it was the least he could do, but it simply could not be done. It was too late, and he was miserable, his scar stinging dreadfully the whole way. They finally arrived and it was quite the boisterous evening. Consisting of drinking competitions, gambling on pony races in the cornfield of all things, eating, smoking, and dancing. Oh, the dancing. It never seemed to end, and no one seemed to notice the pain that Frodo was holding in. Not even Sam really, and it broke his heart. He was in so much company, yet so alone. They never experienced half the things that he and Sam had, but the reason that Sam pulled through was because he had Rosie, and that meant that the one that Frodo loved was taken. He had nothing to hold onto like everyone else, to make life easier. He wanted that so fervently. He didn't know how he managed to make it through the night. As they then settled down for arm wrestling matches, Frodo gave up and sat in the corner, blowing intricate smoke rings, trying to forget. He knew that he was the best man, that he should be the liveliest of the party and the main support, but it seemed as if Sam was doing perfectly fine. After a few brief moments, Sam shoved his way through the crowd, slightly drunk and very merry. "Frodo!" He called, stumbling to his side, and grinning like the sun was shining inside of him. "My dear Frodo!" He called, grabbing Frodo's hand, and pulling him to his feet. "The gloomy days are over, come celebrate!" Oh, they weren't half over for Frodo, but he plastered a grin on his face and joined in. He drank every drop of ale offered, danced away till his feet felt like they would fall off, and guffawed with Merry, Pippin and the Gaffer over the simplest of jokes... All of it for Sam. Yet inside, he had never felt so cold and distant. He wanted to forget, but it was hard when he swore he could feel the Nazgul blade twisting in his chest and the screams of a thousand men. Frodo recalled them stumbling inside the kitchen of the Gaffer's, then sitting on the living room floor and smoking contentedly, laughing at all the funny memories they recollected. After an hour, when the clock had struck at some early time in the morning, Frodo realized he and Sam were the only ones awake. He gulped. This was the last thing he wanted right now. As he was debating pretending to be asleep, he heard Sam stir and grab his hand. He froze, his body seizing up as he felt the familiar calloused fingers. The ones that had turned countless miles of soil. Frodo looked over at him. "Sam?" Frodo queried, his breath caught in his throat. He looked over to see Sam staring out the window, looking at the prominent stars. All was quiet except for the sound of drunken, still awake hobbits and the chirping of crickets. "I'm nervous, Frodo." Sam turned, looking into Frodo's ardent blue eyes, which were threatening to spill with tears. "She is" he paused, picking at a loose string in the carpet,"the woman who helped me get us through to the very end, and I love her more than anything- do you take my meaning?" Frodo rubbed his pained eyes, sighing out a shaky laugh as he heard Sam's familiar catchphrase. "Yes Sam, I understand. You and Rosie are perfect for eachother and I couldn't be any more pleased with you both. It's normal to be nervous Sam." As if he would know. Sam sighed and looked out the window, placing his hand, which was once on Frodo's wrist, to his stomach in thought. "Frodo," Sam repeated once more after a pause. "Yes, Sam?" Frodo said shortly, clenching his teeth against the insurmountable anguish. "I know that the quest has haunted you, and I know we have been through the darkest times together. The beginning when I was just your gardener, and Rivendell, and the time when I waded out to you in the boat..." Frodo swallowed thickly. "All the countless miles we have walked and the countless enemies, the war, the hunger, everything, all up to the time when I saw you poisoned by Shalob and rescued you from the tower and carried you up Mount Doom." He looked over and grinned at his friend. Frodo smiled back wanly, a fast silver tear going down his pale cheek. "I just, I want you to know that where you go I follow, I will never give up on you, and this whole thing between me and Rosie, will not interfere with our friendship, not ever. I see the pain in your eyes every day, and I want you to know that I'm here to the very end, the very end Mr. Frodo." He announced these words carefully, looking at Frodo with the exact same deepest sincerity and faithful expression from the day Gandalf sent him out to be his companion. Frodo let the tears flow, the air seeming to be constricted in his throat as he grabbed Sam's golden curls at the nape of his neck and pulled him into a tight embrace. "I know Sam, I know," he said, trying to stifle the tremendous amount of pain that ripped through his body. Oh how he wanted release. He was soon to watch Sam grow old and experience more life, wrapped up in the love of someone else. He had to watch it all, and he didn't think he was prepared for that. This was more painful than letting go of the Ring. But he saw how happy Sam was and he would do this for him, he could do this for his Sam. All he could do was focus on Sam's arms around him to staunch the agony. They held onto each other tightly, Sam crying too. But they bore different types of emotion with their crying. One of despair, regret, and sacrifice, and the other with uncertainty, nervousness and amiable love for his companion, amazed that they made it this far. They broke apart, Sam laughing a little and patting his friends back, and Frodo trying to laugh as he wiped the tears away from his eyes. He looked at the moon, and at that moment, his shattered heart gravitated back together in a jagged mess, solidifying a cold hard barrier around itself. He had to be strong and hide the despair. It was too late. He looked over at Sam, smiling. "Just imagine Sam, how beautiful the day will be tomorrow, and even more so, Rosie will be." He chided, nudging Sam in the ribs. "And then you two will go and have your honeymoon with Faramir and Eowyn in Rohan, and then Aragorn and Arwen, and you'll see your precious oliphaunts again." Sam smiled, looking up at the ceiling. Frodo continued, "Then you'll have lots of babies, and grow all old like your Gaffer" Frodo said, grimacing as he bore another fresh wave of torture. "Twice as handsome though," Sam laughed, rolling on his side, preparing for sleep. "Yes. Twice as handsome." Frodo said, a little too seriously, but Sam didn't seem to notice. "We should get some rest, Sam," Frodo said, turning over and finally letting his face crumble in silent tears. "Goodnight Frodo, you will always be my greatest and most true friend." And I shall always love you as well, Frodo replied silently. "Same, my Samwise," he said, trying to sound chipper. "Always." He whispered. The room fell into silence as he pretended to sleep, but Sam kept his eyes on Frodo's back. He felt content and happy with Rosie, and knew he was meant to be with her from the moment he saw her coming back home. But before, he wasn't so sure. Maybe he did love Frodo after all they've been through. There was no denying it, he thought. But he saw how cold and distant Frodo was on the way back home and how the idea probably seemed absurd. That he was nothing more than his best of companions. And then when he saw Rosie's face, he cast all of the feelings for Frodo away. Or so he thought... He shook his head, settling down to get at least a couple hours of sleep before the wedding. He was going to marry Rosie. He was happy, wasn't he? Yes, of course he was. So he settled his head down upon the floor, and tried to assure himself that he wanted to do this till the crack of dawn, not sleeping a wink, and little Frodo didn't sleep either, silent sobs escaping his throat. _____________________________________________________________________


	3. With this Ring...

It was a beautiful sunny day of course. Merry, Pippin, and Sam were awoken by the Gaffer, puzzled at first to find they were at the old man's hobbit hole, then recollecting what happened last night for the bachelor party. Sam and Frodo however, pretended to be awoken. This was it. This was the day. Sam was officially going to be gone, out of Frodo's life. No room for chance now. They all headed to the back room and put on their best trousers and white cotton shirts. Frodo helped Sam with his best cloak which had been woven by an elven maiden in Rivendell and fastened the shimmering leaf pin. He put Sam's little blade from the quest in his belt as a sign of honor. They exchanged a small smile. Pippin and Merry chatted about the whole time, not noticing. They left hand in hand, walking out the Old Gaffer's front door, heading to the bridge where the wedding would take place. "Whenever you're ready Sam!" Pippin called over his shoulder as he and Merry shared puffs from a pipe. Sam nodded. Once Merry and Pippin were quite a ways from the house, Frodo and Sam looked at eachother. Frodo smiled grimly, leaning forward to press his head against Sam's. They stood there for a couple seconds, no words to be spoken. Frodo squeezed out one last tear, and then wiped it away quickly, leaning back to look in Sam's face again. "Ready Samwise?" He said, blue eyes shining. Sam gulped, looking at the floor. "Ready, Mr. Frodo." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~€~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The whole village was there, crowding around the riverbank. A couple children played in the water, their pudgy fingers moving through the rippling green. Chattering commenced for what seemed like hours, gossip about Rosie's dress that had been tailored for weeks, and the party that would be at Frodo's house. All Frodo could focus on however, was the way that Sam's green eyes flitted about, the way that his golden curls blew softly about in the April wind. His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Rosie, and he saw how Sam's shoulders tensed. She walked slowly, two hobbit girls being careful not to get her white train in the river. Gaffer played a sweet violin intro, making Frodo close his eyes as he thought about walking through distant green valleys. This could have been him. This could have been his music, his happiness. The vows were short and simple. Rose looked beautiful, and Sam looked tired, but happy. Absolutely happy. Tears spilled from Frodo's eyes, but the spectators would have guessed it was pride and happiness for his friend. Before he knew it, Sam had said "I do," the golden rings glittering. Frodo flinched, thinking of what that reminded him of now. Once more, he had to fight the urge of not being able to get something that he wanted. So close, yet so far away. Sam, his dear Sam. Sam and Rosie exchanged a sweet kiss. The crowd clapped and cheered, banners and rice being thrown. The children set paper lanterns down the river. It was complete. Before Frodo knew it, the crowd had swept Rosie and Sam away into this flower laden carriage, sending them off to Frodo's house for the party, everyone trailing behind. But Frodo, Frodo stood still. Watching the lanterns go off down the river. He thought about the voyage Gandalf spoke of. Sweet release. Didn't sound so bad right at this moment. "I expect to be invited to the wedding" Bilbo said... Frodo sunk to the floor, looking at the flat heavy rocks settled at the bottom of the river. How nice it would be if he could go down to his knees in the cool water. Pick up the stone, and set it on his chest as he sunk down...down...down.... He remembered how he was so close to falling, and Sam's hand was there, pulling through the murky depths and grasping his fingers. No. He firmly resolved. He would be strong for Sam. As long as he could, anyway. Sam had helped him all the way to the point where he carried him up Mount Doom. The least he could do was be there for him, act happy, watch him have kids and see them grow, at least for a little while. He heard Galadriel's voice, call out to him through the river. Shouldn't be long my dear Frodo, shouldn't be long. He got up off of his knees. The party was at his house, he was the host. He had to be first in line. And last but not least, the best man's speech. He arrived, the party in full swing. All kinds of music playing in sweet harmony, dancing, laughing, talking, and Sam and Rosie were placed in two large oak chairs at the base of the tree. A wedding present provided from Beorn. In fact, all kinds of wedding presents were stacked in and immense pile in front of them. One from all of the members of the fellowship to be sure, and one from Bilbo and all of the various beings they had met on their journey. Who had helped them through so much. Legolas and Gimli's gift was peculiarly large. Frodo let out a shuddering sigh before he joined the party full force, smiling when he felt like weeping till his throat and eyes were sore. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~€~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It was time. The Gaffer, a couple of Rosie's friends, and Merry and Pippin, had already done their speeches, producing quite the laughs. Frodo finally stood up with a strength he didn't realize he possessed. The parchment of paper with his words crumpled tightly in his fist. He placed himself in front of the large assembly, heels clicking together and face flushed in nervousness. He had to do this. One last stand, and it was over. He laughed nervously, unravelling the yellowed paper he had started working on weeks ago but then shrugged and crumpled it to the floor. He took a small breath as he looked up once again. Pippin winked at him, Sam smiled softly, meeting his eyes. "I-" he started out, barely a whisper. He cleared his throat. "I um, remember quite clearly when Sam worked as my gardener, what seemed like so many years ago..." The audience chuckled, goading Sam, who blushed. "Sure Samwise and I had gone fishing, played in the cornfield, and drove the old Gaffer to drink... But I never would have thought he was to accompany me on something much greater, to help and sacrifice more than anyone could comprehend." He glanced at Sam. His jaw was set and his eyes, he found, were shimmering just like the river he had contemplated drowning in. He caught himself and looked away quickly, smiling apologetically to the crowd that hung on his every word. "I will never forget the times when he was there to talk with me, always there to watch and aid me whenever I stumbled. And not only the little things, which anyone should already give him a medal for, but there were the times when he nearly drowned to follow me after that encounter with Boromir. When he distrusted Gollum the whole time, and I wouldn't listen. The Ring. It was- I was not right in the head. I was weak, and Sam stayed strong. He found me." His voice quavered at the end a little. He paused, trying to regain his self control. "Go tell him Frodo. And tell him soon. He's the only thing that can make you happy." "He fought Shalob and overthrew Smeagol, he rescued me from a tower filled with orcs, he carried me up Mount Doom when he could barely stand himself, and at the end, when we were seemingly abandoned in the fires of the mountain, he reminded me of home. He brought me back. He helped me remember the very taste of our strawberries, the very green grass that we are standing on. Without Sam, none of this would have happened. He has the courage in his heart of thousands of elven soldiers. He has love that would melt even the very sun upon the mountaintop to give, and you know what wraps up the whole package? He has no idea." He looked over at Sam, electric blue eyes brimming with tears. Sam closed his eyes in return, a single tear going down his ruddy cheek and leaving a prominent track in the lamplight. "No idea." After what seemed like hours, the crowd in hushed silence, and some sobbing themselves, Frodo whispered "You deserve everything that can be given, Sam." He wiped at his eyes with his sleeve, and then smiled grimly as he let out a sigh. He turned to Rosie. "There is no one better for Samwise than you, Rosie. Be happy." He then turned and took his spot at the table next to Pippin, who hugged him immediately and bawled into his shoulder. He chuckled briefly, patting Pippin's back. It was done. It was complete. Sam would never know now, and he had his own life to live. Whereas Frodo, would spend the rest of his waiting for it to end. Not very long Frodo, not very long. Galadriel's voice echoed in his ears.


	4. Emerald Thoughts

Frodo looked out placidly at the gray clouds, a storm brewing. Sam and Rosie had been on their honeymoon for almost a month and were returning today, or so everyone said. It felt like Frodo hadn't left his desk chair since the wedding, which was almost true. He had done next to nothing except try to finish Bilbo's book. Most days never finding what he wanted to write down, and slumping forward onto the wooden desk, falling into a fitful sleep. He was plagued by nightmares, and the pain in his shoulder was so great, it felt like a hot poker on his skin, melting and sizzling it's way to the burrows of his heart. Pippin and Merry checked on him almost every day, filling his pantry with food he would never eat, and trying to urge him to get out and go on a walk. To do something. But Frodo could not bear to see the color of that river again. So he sat in tormented silence, mistaking a shadow to be Smeagol's hunched up form, or the crackle of Gandalf's fireworks. Every creak an enemy, anything that glittered making him quake. He once found himself staring intently at the brass knob of his fire poker, caressing and hissing at it, possessed. When he discovered what he was doing, he cried out, and fell upon the carpeted floor, calling out to Sam as if it was the only word he knew. He was found the next morning by Merry and Pippin, who thought about contacting Gandalf or Rivendell for assistance but Frodo replied sharply, insisting that he was to finish the book, to be at home, to be there for Sam. They were frightened, he could tell, but he couldn't bring it into his manic mind to care anymore. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~€~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Sam and Rosie arrived around late noon, a light spring rain gifting the Shire. The carriage creaked over the bridge and up a winding dirt road, crossing over till they reached their beloved home. Sam had never had such a fun experience. No doubt in his mind that he had made the right choice for a wife. They had quite a fun time with Legolas and Gimli at Rivendell and he'll never forget their visit with Arwen, Aragorn, Faramir, and Eowyn. However, he couldn't stop thinking about Frodo. He felt something deep inside that was gnarled and rooted in the pit of his stomach like a sickly plant. Something was wrong. Something was wrong with Frodo to be exact. He hopped off the coach when they arrived at Rosie and his new house, made as a wedding present from all the village hobbits. "I'll be back to help unpack, but I need to say hello first." Rosie nodded and Sam pecked her on the cheek, then ambled over on his way to Frodo's house. He met Merry and Pippin at a small crossroads on the way, and they cried out to each other, laughing and hugging. After the usual forms of greeting, and when Sam told them a little about the honeymoon, he enquired about Frodo. Merry and Pippin's joyful expressions changed in a blink. The light rain turned into a full on downpour and lightning cracked as if the sky was breaking. They all huddled under some cleft overhanging from the end of a yard, bunching their cloaks around their shoulders. "That's just the thing Sam. Frodo, he's - he's gotten much worse. Ever since the wedding he's done nothing but sit holed up in his office trying to finish Bilbo's book. He has nightmares, hallucinates things. Who knows how long it will be until Gandalf comes for that release. We don't know how much longer, he-" Pippin's eyes filled with tears. Sam nodded quickly and gave a quick pat to Pippin's shoulder before he went out from the overhang of earth and started sprinting up the muddy road to Frodo's house. He had to find him. He went past the spectators gaping from their doors, some calling out to him, wishing him welcome and wondering how the honeymoon went, but Sam completely disregarded them, going as fast as his short legs could carry him. He finally reached the green round door, the door that brought forth so many memories, and opened it, for it wasn't locked. The door crashed into the wall, and Sam bustled in, not caring to wipe his filthy boots. He turned the corner, peering into the sitting room area, then trotted over to the study where he finally found Frodo. Slumped and shrunken. He rushed to his side, grabbing his arm roughly and shaking him. "Frodo," he said, his voice trying to stay even and calm, but it was hard to keep down the panic that was clawing at his throat. "Frodo," he repeated, pushing back his shoulders that were wrapped in some sort of thin shawl. Frodo's head rolled back, and he groaned slightly. His face was even more pale than before, and his eyes were puffy and rimmed. He had a faint blue vein clenching and unclenching as he moved his jaw right above his brow. He opened his startling blue eyes, the only thing that seemed to be shining out of his dull body. "Sam..." "Thank God," Sam whispered, pulling Frodo's hair back from his head before pulling him into a crushing hug. "What have you gotten yourself into now, Mr. Frodo?" Frodo didn't reply for a while staring blankly off into space. "I'm glad you're finally here Sam." Frodo said, his eyes drifting up to Sam's again, giving him a lazy tired smile. "As am I Frodo. As am I." He studied Frodo for a moment, thinking. "Who knows what would have happened if I hadn't gotten back in time. By thunder, have you eaten anything while I was gone?" He looked at Frodo's gaunt figure. Ink spread all over in dark blotches on his long slender fingers. At that time, Merry and Pippin caught up and hesitantly walked through the threshold, looking at Sam with pleading eyes. Sam looked at them grimly, setting his jaw. "Go tell Rosie I won't be home for awhile. Help her unpack please." Pippin took a step forward, "are you sure you're okay here Sam? We could-" Sam cut him off, eyes nearly bulging. "I think you've done enough help already, thank you." "Sam," Merry said apologetically, trying to explain. "He wouldn't let us near him. We tried to write, but-" "Just leave please" Sam said quietly. Pippin and Merry stood there for a minute, then hung their heads and walked out silently, closing the door behind them. "Sam." Frodo said calmly, placing a hand on his arm. "It isn't their fault." Sam's shoulders sunk. "I know." Sam helped him out of the chair and walked him over to the kitchen. He got himself busy, talking to Frodo the whole time about where they went for the honeymoon and all the adventures. This saddened Frodo even further, but he saw Sam's face light up when he talked about it. That was enough for him, so he listened quietly, a small smile forming at the corner of his lips as he gazed at him. Sam made potato soup, and grabbed biscuits and tea. He practically fed Frodo and made him eat every drop, slowly but surely. Then he drew a bath, pouring oils and making the water perfect. He helped Frodo undress. Frodo shivered, his naked thin body hitting the unfamiliar cold air. Sam looked at his shrunken wasted form sadly. "In you go" he tried to say cheerfully, helping him in the copper tub, wiping away his tears. He laid out clothes for him and started to pack his things. Once Frodo had finished, and was clean and full for once in what had seemed like years as he waited for Sam, he looked at his friend with a quizzical expression. Sam looked back stubbornly as he plopped Frodo's bag by the front door. "You're moving in with me and Rosie." "Samwise..." Frodo said tiredly dragging a hand down his face. "Nope." "But I'll be a burden, and you and Rosie just got back, and I can't-" "Shh." "No Sam, I have to finish the book! I-" "You can finish it at my house then," Sam replied shortly, before picking up Frodo easily and carrying him bridal style out the front door. Frodo cried out in surprise, kicking his legs weakly. "Put me down Sam." Sam ignored him, and grabbed Frodo's luggage. Frodo had gotten so thin and Sam even stronger, that he was able to hold Frodo with one arm and the carpetbag with the other. He kicked open the door, and set Frodo in his own horse drawn cart, setting the bags in the back and hitching up the two ponies. Frodo sighed, giving up and squinting feebly in the now bright sky. The rain had stopped and left a fresh feeling about the air. Sam hopped in beside him and started to drive the ponies down the muddy road. This was going to be quite another weary adventure for Frodo. ...the Road goes ever on and on Out from the door where it began. Now far ahead the Road has gone, Let others follow it who can! Let them a journey new begin, But I at least with weary feet Will turn towards the lighted inn, My evening-rest and sleep to meet.


	5. Smoke and Shimmering Tears

Chapter 5 "There is some good in this world, and it's worth fighting for." -Samwise Gamgee It had been a week since Frodo had started residing at Sam and Rosie's home. Rosie, a sweet thing, immediately set up a spot for him in the spare room. Frodo insisted that he pay for his stay and the food they were giving him but they refused. He somehow managed to reason with them about taking the food that was left at his home. His pantry was stocked plenty enough. They consented, and managed to make a fine schedule together. Sam always there when he needed him, but the thing that made him cringe, the thing that practically threw a dagger at his injured heart every time. Was watching Sam and Rosie. Sam refused to let him go, and he didn't have a good enough excuse to tell him so he would be able to leave. Other than telling the truth. And he thought, that maybe this might be worse than all the hardships he had ever faced. Sam forced Frodo to go outside almost every day, whether it was fishing, or taking a walk and smoking together, and Frodo started to slowly get better. It was hard for him to not tear apart at every flicker of those green eyes that were cast at Rosie and not at his. All the kind and sweet gestures he exchanged, or when he saw him working on the garden. He felt as if he could be happy for once, but every night he was reminded of Sam not being his, or the day of the wedding when he looked in that river and thought of Bilbo's words. There was no rest for Frodo, and he often found himself reflecting over Galadriel's foretelling... How much longer did he have? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~€~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Frodo, Rosie, Sam, Pippin and Merry all got together for a dinner at Sam's house. It was a late summer evening. The sun was coming down, and the hobbits were content and full as they watched fireflies flit in and out of the dark trees bordering the edge of the woods by the road. Not very far from the river. Sam and Rosie were acting peculiarly chipper that day and were constantly bringing their golden haired heads close together, whispering and giggling. As they all, except Rosie, pulled out their pipes for an evening smoke and began to puff out exquisite rings. Sam cleared his throat. They all stopped and Frodo looked nervously at him. "I have an announcement" Sam said, his voice brimming with unbridled happiness and excitement. They all turned to him, Pippin and Merry looking at him with slight confusion and Frodo waiting on bated breath. He unconsciously grabbed his shoulder as a wave of nausea and pain hit him. Sam looked at Rosie, squeezing her hand and giving her a grin before he continued. "Rosie and I are having a baby." He beamed, letting the secret spring out. Pippin and Merry immediately cried out and pounced on Sam, thumping him on the back and giving out congratulatory remarks. Placing their hands on Rosie's stomach, even though the baby was barely even the size of a pea like those in Sam's garden. Frodo felt as if a deadly blow had been directed to his gut. His throat burned raw as he choked on bitter tears and the only thing that helped him smile was recovering from a grimace as he felt the blade twisting in the gnarled scar of his shoulder. He somehow found the strength to stand and embrace Rosie, however, he could barely look Sam in the eye. He felt sick. He had to leave. He stealthily crawled back into the cool house, making his way blindly to the study. Every laugh that echoed from the front porch made him cringe. He collapsed in on himself, but in a matter of five minutes he was back as if nothing had happened. Smiling deeply as he once more thought about sinking down in that green shimmering river. Later that night, when Pippin and Merry finally left, spouting out a couple spare blessings and taking there time on the porch, Frodo finally let himself relax. He told Sam and Rosie that he was tired and headed off to his room. "I'm so happy for you both," he said, giving Rosie a smile, and thinking about putting a hand upon Sam's shoulder but thought better of it. His fingers quaking as he drew back. Sam looked at him with a curious expression. "Goodnight." Frodo whispered, his voice sounding raw and shaky. He ducked his head and quickly swooped into his bedroom, closing the door behind him and slumping on the bed, his mouth open in a silent scream. That night, he waited till the sound of Sam and Rosie's voices died down and their bedroom door had shut. After about ten minutes, he quickly got on his feet, opened the smooth-hinged door to his bedroom, and tip-toed across the wooden floors. He made it to the front door then slunk out into the night. The air was refreshing and the perfect temperature, and he sighed as the wind swept his raven black curls away from his pale face. He put his hands in the pockets of his trousers and headed down the road, making his way to the dark forest edge. He walked as if in a hypnotic daze, blinking and waiting for the sweet release of tears but none came. He had only to get to the river. He had walked slowly, for how long, he couldn't say, but suddenly he found his body hitting the railing of the bridge, his hands touching the smooth wood. He closed his eyes and sat down on the wooden planks, his hairy feet dangling over the edge. He looked down at the shimmering green and closed his eyes as he rocked back and forth, recalling the day that he and Sam had gone fishing one beautiful sunny morning after the quest. Soon before Pippin and Merry were getting married in the fall and long before Sam would propose to Rosie. Sam cast the line, setting it in a niche in the dock and grabbing his pipe. Frodo smiled, retrieving his smoke as well but holding onto his line. Sam looked at him out of the corner of his eye, puffing out a delicate ring from the corner of his mouth. At this time, Frodo was traumatized from all that had happened, but was still in a light mood. What with Aragorn being crowned, having all of Middle Earth celebrate his name, and then finally regaining the rights to the Shire. "We've done well, haven't we Mr. Frodo?" Sam said softly, smiling at him. "Yes Sam." Frodo replied contentedly. "Although, I wouldn't have done any of this without you. You're the true conqueror, Samwise." Sam blushed, looking at his calloused fingers. "Oh no Mr. Frodo, that's not true." "Oh but it is Sam!" Frodo insisted, looking at him in bewilderment. "How can you not recognize all that you've done?" Sam shrugged, looking away. Frodo shook his head in amazement, clucking his teeth softly. All the sudden, Frodo's line was being tugged. "Sam!" Frodo said, blue eyes widening as he shoved Sam's shoulder, gesturing towards the shaking fishing pole. Sam came out of his embarrassed daze, looking to Frodo. "Well don't just stand there, Mr. Frodo!" He cried. Frodo nodded quickly, grasping it and starting to reel in the line quickly. He struggled for a minute or two, Sam urging him on until little Frodo started to slide off the bridge. Sam's arms were around his waist in an instant, holding tightly. Frodo blushed. "Stand up and move the line across the bridge and stand at the bank. You'll get a better footing!" Sam hollered, hoisting Frodo up to his feet. Frodo fumbled with the line a little before raising it up and following it as he jogged down to the end of the bridge and stood at the edge of the bank, reeling it in. Sam followed closely behind. "What in the devil!" Frodo growled as he continued to struggle. "This is one large bugger." He spat threw his teeth, face going momentarily red before he finally won the battle, a silver fish starting to bob out of the green water, reeling and writhing its slick body around in vain. He pulled it closer and closer till he snatched the end of the line with his hand, plopping the fish on the grassy land, far away from the edge. As Frodo watched the silver scales shimmer, something hot and manic hit him, clouding his senses. He started to see visions of a silver moon filtering through Galadriel's golden hair, the flash of his sword as he vainly cut at cobwebs, Smeagol's voice taunting him and the threat of Shalob close by, and last, but not least, Gollum' pale blue eyes lighting up as he sunk his grisly teeth into raw fish flesh, humming at the taste. The Ring spun, the Nazgul screeched... With that, he grabbed a rock from the shallow end of the river and scrambled back to the fish, slamming it's head over and over till it was a bloody mess, brain and blood scattered through the tall grasses, it's wide eyes now glazed and cold. Sam stared at him in dismay. "Isn't it fun to watch them squirm Sam?" Frodo said oddly, his visage cast away from all time and place. Frodo didn't wait for an answer as Sam gazed on helplessly and started to scream at the bloody remains of the creature, throwing the scattered bits of the fish back in the water. "No!" Frodo screamed, "I will not be tempted! Leave me alone!" He continued to scream till his throat was stripped raw, clawing at the warm strong arms that enfolded him and pulled him away from the water, grasping his hands that had bore into claws and putting them in a vice like grip. "Frodo." Sam said sharply as Frodo leaned his head back and nipped maniacally at thin air like a rabid dog. "Frodo!" Sam repeated, pushing his back onto the ground and grabbing his face. "Look at me. Just focus on me." Frodo's gaze softened a bit with slight recognition but he still struggled lightly and shut his eyes, straining against all the pain. "It's okay Frodo. It's all over, you're fine." Sam soothed, looking down at his poor, tortured friend. "Look at me, Mr. Frodo." He demanded calmly, grabbing his chin. Frodo whimpered before giving up, and slowly unclenching his eyelids. Sam, as always, stunned by the brilliant blue. They gazed at each other for a while before Frodo's voice called out in a strangled and broken whisper. "Sam?" He said, tears pricking his eyes. Sam sighed in relief, putting his forehead against Frodo's chest briefly, before giving out a shaky laugh. "I'm here Frodo." Frodo sat up, pushing Sam off gently. He sat there for a minute before putting his head in his hands and crying weakly. "What is happening to me Sam?" He cried, as Sam's face filled with sorrow, and he pulled his companion back in his arms. "You'll be alright. You're going to be fine." Frodo sniffled, looking at Sam with watery eyes. "Why Sam? Why?" Was all he asked as Sam wrapped his cloak around Frodo's shoulders and grabbed his now cold hands. "I would do anything for you Frodo, you know that by now. Anything." Frodo shuddered from the memory, rubbing his arms with his hands quickly. He should have told him then, oh how he should of. Now look where he was. Traumatized, cold, no Sam, his only chance of happiness in this life, and tired. Just plain tired. He looked at the tempting green water, glinting like rich emerald jewels, hidden deep in the caves of Moria. No. He told himself sharply. He was going to leave strong, he was going to do this for Sam. So he turned himself around, with the reassuring words of Galadriel in his mind and a bright evening star to lead him back home.


	6. Elanora

"All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us." -J.R.R. Tolkien (Gandalf) Frodo moved out of Sam's house, trying his best in proving to him that he was stable and accepting to the term that Sam was to visit and check on him daily. He spent his time trying to finish the book in his study, going for walks and taking smokes in the evening, staring silently at the night sky. He also spent time checking in on Rosie and the baby, giving her flowers or chatting with her for awhile. He helped Pippin, Merry, and Sam make the spare room into a nursery and he went to the pub. He was going steady and slow. Biding his time in comfort, waiting. Waiting for release. Months came and went, Christmas was celebrated, and before anyone knew it, baby Elanora was born. She was a healthy, cherubic little thing with Rosie's face structure and Sam's eyes. She looked at Frodo and smiled. Frodo instantly fell in love with her. Elanora's godfather. She was constantly in company and doted on by Uncle Merry, Pippin, and Frodo. All the villagers paid visits and smiled on her, Sam and Rosie at the top of it all of course. They watched her grow until she was a walking, chattering toddler. Her laugh tinkling like bells through the halls of the Gamgee household. Frodo seemed to slowly deteriorate and grow older due to all the stress of finishing his book and the advancements of Sam. His hair developing gray streaks and the bags under his eyes more prominent. He sat up late in the night, trying desperately to focus on his writing so the creatures of the night wouldn't take him. He had everything plotted out for when he would leave. Not very long at all now Frodo, be at the ready. Galadriel would tell him. Frodo took Elanora on a little walk through town, Sam was busy working at the garden and Rosie was exhausted. Pippin and Merry were taking a little holiday to Rivendell. Frodo thought about visiting the place himself, but there was really no other place he'd rather be in his final times. He held Elanora's tiny hand as she teetered on her plump legs up the dirt road, chirping happily and trying her best to talk to him as Frodo smiled down at her. They paused to study glittering beetles and watched birds flit through the trees, Frodo naming each species and tucking a flower into her long curly hair. They walked around for a minute till the little creature got quite tired, so he sat down underneath a tree with her tucked sleepily in his arm, glancing lazily at the river. When he was sure she had fallen asleep and let sadness loom over his face, casting down his guard, Elanora's little voice broke out suddenly, startling him. "Uncle Frodo?" She said looking up at his face and giving him a small shy smile. Frodo tried to bring back his composure but he faltered. "What is it, Nora?" She sat up and grabbed his face, squishing it and giggling at the expression he made at her, sticking out his tongue. "You look tired" she said once she recovered, looking at him with a wise beyond her years pitiful expression. Frodo's breath hitched as he smiled at her, wiping away the small tears forming at the corner of his eyes. "Yes, I suppose I am very tired." Elanora frowned at him, letting her plump lower lip stick out in an endearing expression. "Why?" She asked, playing with the pin on his cloak in childish curiosity. Frodo squeezed his eyes shut. "I've been on a long journey, Ella, that's all." He smiled at her as she nodded her little head, trying to look as if she understood. "Oh" she said simply. They stayed there for awhile, Frodo watching her as she dumped rocks in the pond, clapping her hands in delight at the splashes they made. Then she laid upon the grass,listening to the wind sigh through the trees, falling asleep. Frodo smiled, picked up her little body, and carried her home. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~€~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lots of good changes were happening for Sam. His garden and crops were flourishing, he was campaigning to become the next Mayor of the Shire, and last but not least, Rosie was pregnant with a second child. He only checked on Frodo every once in a while, since he had been constantly busy and was starting to worry about him again. He didn't have violent outbursts or flashbacks anymore, he just seemed to be slowly deteriorating. He watched as he grew smaller and smaller when he walked down the path by Sam's house, going on his daily walks with Elanora. She seemed to be his therapy. He set his mind to go and keep company with Frodo that night. They had hardly had any one on one conversation. He made sure all the chores were done and that Rosie was settled before he donned his dark green cloak and walked out of his quaint hobbit hole. Making his way down the path that weaved through the town. It was late afternoon, and somehow, Sam just knew that Frodo would be at the river. He put his thumbs in his pockets as he whistled down the path. Everything seemed eerily quiet, and the warm air that breezed across his way gave him an odd eerie feeling. The grass whispered to him. He reached the bridge, immediately spotting Frodo with his short legs hanging over the edge and his blue eyes cast out over the clear emerald water as he sat there, contemplating. Sam slowly approached him, settling his hands out of his pockets and sitting down beside his companion. Frodo didn't move a muscle, still staring off into space in a trance, muttering words under his breath. His right hand held a pen, poised above the parchment, shaking slightly. This caused ink blotches to fall and spread on the paper, looking very similar to blood. Sam looked at him in quiet sorrow, reaching out and grabbing his hand, squeezing it gently. "Frodo?" Frodo jumped a little, looking around before he met Sam's gaze, his eyes flitting in recognition as he smiled bleakly at him. "Hullo Sam." He said simply. "Hi" Sam smiled, still holding on to his frail hand as he watched his grey speckled hair blow lightly in the breeze. He was only 39, yet looked so fragile and aged from all that he had encountered. He had no idea that he was part of the cause, not really. He held back unshed tears, as he was reminded of someone else like this. Bilbo. So tired, slowly fading and waiting for release. "How long?" Sam asked simply, knowing Frodo would understand. Frodo sighed, a soft sound that was kindred to the long grasses blowing in the wind. "I don't know." Frodo answered truthfully. Sam looked down at his feet, nodding his head as silent tears made its way down his face. He stroked Frodo's hand with his thumb soothingly as Frodo leaned a tired head upon Sam's shoulder, protecting him from the chill of the cloudy afternoon.


	7. Farewell

"The grey-rain curtain turned all to silver glass and was rolled back, and he beheld white shores and beyond them a far green country under a swift sunrise." -J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King (Grey Havens) Frodo got up early that morning and made his way to the river once more. He sat there, leaning on his carved walking stick and feeling the hushed presence in the air. Something was coming. He sat there for what seemed like an eternity. The trees creaked, the water gurgled, and he heard something else. Something quite different. The sound of multiple hooves, trotting at a gentle slow pace on the other side of the bridge, coming in. He stood with his hand splayed out on the bark of a nearby tree, waiting. Suddenly, glowing white could be seen. The trees twirled their leaves in greeting and the grasses whispered excitedly. It was Gandalf. His eyes filled with tears of exceeding joy and peace as Gandalf looked up and smiled at him, the skin around his deep blue eyes crinkling at the corners as Shadowfax bowed his head. Following close behind was Elrond, Celeborn, Galadriel and Bilbo. Frodo could barely breathe once he saw them all at last. Crossing the bridge and standing before him, each on a brilliant mare, Bilbo on the customary pony. He nearly fell to his knees at the sight, trembling. Gandalf stepped from Shadowfax. "My dear Frodo," Gandalf started, putting his staff in one hand and extending out his long white clad arms. Frodo ran forward. They embraced and Gandalf chuckled, pulling back from him gently as he looked him in the eyes. Celeborn and Galadriel came, Celeborn waving at Frodo kindly. He smiled back, then turned towards Galadriel. Her golden hair falling in loose curls around her elegant shoulders, her eyes like evening stars. She leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. "It is time now Frodo." She said softly. Frodo nodded, turning to Bilbo and hugging him fiercely. Bilbo was much older looking than ever before. His hair a white tuft, his eyes soft and glazed. "Hello my nephew." He whispered. An unspoken conversation happening between them. They were all dressed in white, a soft glow seeming to emanate from them. Frodo climbed onto Shadowfax in front of Gandalf and they made their way to the Grey Havens. He looked back at the bubbling green stream and thought of Sam. It was best this way. As he looked at the glittering beetles, the quaint little homes, and the whistling grass. He turned to Gandalf who was looking steadfastly at the road, his wizened eyes, looking at the area around him as if in a daze. "Gandalf?" He queried, turning around in the saddle to face him. "What is it my Frodo?" Gandalf said, looking down at him. "I need to take care of something at the house first, if you don't mind." Gandalf nodded slowly, taking the left path on the forked road and signaling silently to the others. After a minute or two, they reached the front of the Baggins hobbit hole. Bilbo looked at his old home, making no move off of his pony, and only showing faint recognition. His weathered wrinkly face glancing at the green door. Frodo hopped off the horse and looked at them silently nodding. Then he turned around and wrapped his hand around the brass knob set in the middle of the green wood, taking a deep breath as he stepped inside. Everything was eerily quiet, the only sound the ticking of the clock. He made his way to the office and reached the thick stack of parchment. The book was nearly complete. The last couple pages were left for Sam. His Samwise. He grabbed a new piece of paper and sat at his desk, writing down a letter for his friend, to explain, to say goodbye. He couldn't face him for fear that he would let the truth slip, and it would ruin everything, changing Sam's view on him in his final moments. Sam had a life to live. As for Frodo, it was time to leave. He sealed it in an envelope, bound up the paper in a leather binder and took one last glance around the room, all the relics kept by Bilbo and him that were useless now. Everything placed in the house as if he had never truly left. He stepped outside, the sunrise casting a golden glow around the four figures, making Frodo stop in amazement at the regality. He held out the envelope to Gandalf and the white wizard nodded, understanding. He gestured for Frodo to hop on once more, and they sped stealthily onward to the Gamgee house. As soon as they reached the quaint cottage, the window beds filled with violet, honeysuckle, and herbs. Frodo hopped off, and as quietly as possible, strode up to the door, placing the letter and book on the front porch. Sam wouldn't find this until about an hour and a half later. He thought about glancing in the windows to see Sam one last time, but thought better of it. He turned around. "Come Frodo" Gandalf said quietly. They made it back to Bilbo's house, where the others stood in waiting, and headed for the Grey Havens at a steady pace. Galadriel singing a soft tune for them as they went down the winding country road, eventually leading into the forest. He leaned back into Gandalf and let his thoughts wander, looking at the brilliant rich colors of his surroundings. Do you remember the Shire, Mr. Frodo? Sam said, his dirt streaked weary face looking over to him. Sparks from the molten lava brightening up the background of the dark. He continued, "It'll be Spring soon. And the orchards will be in blossom. And the birds will be nesting in the hazel thicket. And they'll be sowing the summer barley in the lower fields and eating the first of the strawberries with cream. Do you remember the taste of strawberries? The Ringebearers crossed under the dark forest canopy, Galadriel leaned over to whisper something lovingly in Celeborn's ear, while Gandalf started to whistle a tune. "No Sam. I can't recall the taste of food...nor the sound of water... Nor the touch of grass. I'm... Naked in the dark, with nothing, no veil... Between me...and the wheel of fire! I can see him... With my waking eyes! Sam looked at him grimly, his jaw set in determination and anger. "Then let us be rid of it... Once and for all! Frodo looked down at the ground weakly. "Come on, Mr. Frodo. I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you!" They suddenly reached a clearing, being basked in the glory of the dawn. There was a harbor, a dock leading out to a large grand boat. Intricate carvings on the wooden sides and billowing white sails, the water blue and calm. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~€~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Sam woke up early that morning, not being able to sleep and figuring that he should get a first start on the garden. He finally got an order of Elanora seeds. He yawned and stretched, being quiet as he dressed, trying not to wake Rosie and Elanora, smiling at the new bump forming in his wife's belly. He stealthily walked to the front door, and gazed at the front porch, looking down to expect a package of seeds but instead found a leather bound satchel of parchment and a yellowed envelope. He frowned, his hand quaking as he reached down for it, unconsciously knowing who it was from. He ripped open the letter, glancing down the scribbled lines. After a couple seconds he clenched his eyes shut. No. Not now. He didn't even say goodbye. He grabbed his cloak and ran out the door, not knowing where he was going. He tried to jog his memory, thinking of where Frodo could have gone. He remembered the council being held in Rivendell, when he listened in on their conversation, concerned about Frodo. Grey Haven. The name was crystal clear. He panicked, looking around. He saw a pony in a neighboring stable and jumped the fence, unhitching and running it as fast as it's little legs could go towards his destination. Grey, blue, gold and multiple other colors dashed by his vision. He was such a fool. The biggest fool there ever was. How could he not of told Frodo? Although he loved Rosie, he knew that he felt something possibly stronger for his friend, since the day he was assigned to assist him on the journey to destroy the Ring. Oh Sam. You are unbelievably, hopelessly stupid. He thought about the river, about Frodo's blue eyes, the rare smile that ensued from his pale face. He failed him, he did everything wrong and now Frodo was gone forever. Everything was painstakingly obvious to him and he wept as he hit the poor creatures side, forcing it to go as fast as possible. The clearing finally came and he made a turn on the pony sharply, causing it to whinny and Sam to almost lose his place on its back. He drove it forward as he caught the glimpse of a white sail. He trotted it in, halting the pony to a stop and falling on his hands and knees, scraping the skin. He hardly noticed though, as he stood up sharply, catching the sight of five retreating figures, making their way down the long dock. He cried out in relief and dismay. "Frodo!" He yelled as loud as humanly possible, waving his arms and running onto the wooden slabs. Frodo turned around slowly, his breath catching in his throat as he gasped. He stumbled towards him, his slim figure stumbling in the light wind that had picked up, ruffling grey speckled hair, blue eyes watering, and his hands groped blindly towards Sam as he met him halfway in the middle of the dock. Sam drove forward into his arms, nearly knocking his small frame over as he held him tightly, blubbering nonsense. Frodo held him, closing his eyes. "Sam" he exhaled, burrowing his face in his neck. "Hush Sam, it's alright." Sam shook his head, pulling away from him slightly, looking at him with his amazingly green eyes, now puffy and red rimmed. "F-Frodo I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. I knew it from the moment-" he paused, making a small gasping noise as he clung onto Frodo's cloak, pressing his forehead against Frodo's chest. Frodo nearly crumpled to the ground, his sense of oncoming peace falling away from him. "Didn't tell me what Sam?" He said, grabbing Sam's face and yanking it up to look at him. Sam's crying died down as he looked wildly around. Frodo wiped away the tears from Sam's cheeks and locked his jaw. "Look at me Sam. Tell me what?" He whispered once more. The sound of the wind could be heard for a couple seconds, the other Ringbearers watching the small figures clinging onto each other as if their life depended on it. Sam took a deep shivering breath. "I love you Mr. Frodo." He said, finally looking into his eyes with a gaze that could be burned in a mind for a thousand years. Frodo grimaced, a tear falling down his cheek. "Oh Sam," he said, his chin quivering as he looked up towards the sky. "I have loved you always." They sat there in silence, sobs racking their bodies. "We're so stupid Sam, so stupid for never telling the other before, so much has happened. I'm so sorry-" Sam cut him off, gripping his shoulders as he placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth, wetted with salty tears. It was enough for him. They stood there for a moment, Frodo feeling as if he were in a dream, the gurgling river flashed through his mind. This was his happiness, his closure. No more pain. Sam pulled away. There was no more left to say, no use in explaining themselves. "I don't know what I'm going to do after you're gone." Sam sniffled, smoothing the pin in Frodo's cloak. "Please don't go where I can't follow. Please." Frodo's heart shattered completely. "Oh Sam, you're going to work on your garden, you're going to love and take care of Rosie and your children, become mayor, and you're going to fill all those last pages." Sam shook his head, scoffing in slight disbelief. Frodo grabbed his chin. "I wonder if we'll ever be put into songs or tales" Sam mumbled as the two walked down the dusty road. "What Sam?" Frodo called back, nearly stumbling over a rock. "I wonder if people will ever say 'let's hear about Frodo and the Ring.' And they'll say 'Yes that's one of my favorite stories. Frodo was really courageous, wasn't he, Dad? 'Yes my boy, the most famousest of hobbits. And that's saying a lot." Sam said, imitating a gruffer older voice. Frodo smiled, shaking his head. "You've left out one of the chief characters- Samwise the Brave. I want to hear more about Sam." He looked his friend square in the eye and grinned. "Frodo wouldn't have gotten very far without Sam." Sam blushed, looking at the ground. "Now Mr. Frodo, you shouldn't make fun; I was being serious." Frodo looked at him in shock. "So was I." "Samwise the Brave..." Sam contemplated this new title, smiling to himself. Frodo took a shuddering exhale, the tears flowing down his face. "Sam. The Ring has damaged me, none of it is your fault. I can finally be happy now. You, on the other hand, have so much to live for, so much to witness and create." He kissed Sam's hand and Sam looked at him, eyes full of regret and love, fear and sadness. "Do it for me, please. Promise me." Sam looked in the icy blue before he nodded his head. "I promise you Frodo" he said weakly. "My dear Samwise, Frodo said pressing his forehead against Sam's, closing his eyes. "Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you." He said over and over as he pushed Sam's hair out of his eyes and looked at the palm of his hands. They sat there in silence for what seemed an eternity, and then parted. Frodo leaned forward and brushed the golden curls away from Sam's face and planted a kiss on his forehead. "Goodbye Sam." He said, backing away. Sam blinked, and stumbled to his knees, grasping at the hem of Frodo's trousers. "Please Frodo!" He said in a broken scream. "I made a promise not to leave you, and I don't mean to, not now, not ever. Please stay, please!" He bit his knuckles, trying to staunch the sounds of his grief. Tears welled up in Frodo's eyes, looking like drops of crystalline rainwater on a petal of blue. "My sweet Sam." His breath quivered, pulling him off of his knees and into his arms. He would be the one to hold onto him this time, to give him strength. "You've done more than anyone could ever ask of you. Please please please don't do this to me. I can't bear to see you cry. At least leave me a little sliver of heart left." He smiled bitterly. Sam shook his head, grasping every part of his loved one's face as if he was trying to make sure he would remember. Frodo sobbed, hesitantly ducking his head in and placing another kiss on Sam's cheek. "Please Sam, please. Let me go. I'll be happy again." Sam shook violently, but nodded in defeat, letting Frodo's cloak fall out of his grasp. "Live your life Sam, for me if nothing at all. You're the strongest person I know." He said, stumbling back towards the ship. Sam halted his feet from running towards Frodo again and holding him in his arms, anchoring him. He stood there shaking in the morning wind, all alone. His tears had made clean tracks down his smudged face. Frodo smiled at him gently, waving to him. "Don't forget about me, Sam." "Never Frodo, never." Sam whispered. "I love you." Frodo mouthed over and over as he climbed on board, not taking his eyes off Sam. Sam whispered back hoarsely, declaring his love for him a little too late. The ship set sail on the calm blue waters, out into the light. Sam let him go for the first and last time. Frodo's figure was outlined in the mist as he watched his beloved on the dock in silence. While Sam gazed after him in return, staring straight ahead at the placid water long after Frodo had vanished out of sight.


End file.
